The Phantom of the Opera
by LisabellaCharline02
Summary: "It isn't about Erik, Christine and Raoul anymore, Katniss, is about you and me...and him..." Said the blond guy with a sad expression. That was the moment I knew it was true, the characters were just a masquerade, a scapegoat to avoid admitting our true feelings. We had taken this play to far...
1. Chapter 1

The Phantom Of The Opera

**Chapter 1: Of Presentations and the beginning of disasters **

"Welcome to the palace of hellish dances and colourful nightmares" chirps Effie Trinket while ungracefully gliding to the scenario.

"You've come here from every place around the country to participate in this fantastic musical under my direction, coordination and of course, participation" continues the woman, this time flapping her arms in the air as to make waves with her oversized fuchsia sleeves, her eyes gazing to a limited infinity.

From a first glance, Effie appeared to be drunk or into an incomparable drug addiction. She was always faking smiles or making uncomfortable gestures with her unnaturally big nails and her pink-whitish curls accompanied by an indirect rough comment towards everything and everyone around her.

Being so extravagant and dramatic made everyone fear the fact that she was going to "direct, coordinate and participate" in "the country's most waited musical of the year". Effie wasn't a classical woman and of course The Phantom Of The Opera was not for her.

Even though Caesar Flickerman, the television icon, had made the auditions himself and decided who was giving live to which character, Effie decided to waste a whole day into knowing why each one wanted to participate.

Effie was oblivious to the fact that nobody could actually choose whether if they wanted to participate or not, nor did she care about it. Every year was the same thing; auditions were obligatory for everybody that couldn't afford to pay the right people (which was actually 95% of the Panem's population) and whoever was actually chosen for some reason or another was taken to the Capitol and prepared to amuse the whole country for as much time as the government considered proper. Then came a picture of the "cast" in a really tall wall in a plaza over in the centre of the Capitol and an ephemeral monetary retribution.

Intertwined thoughts and feelings from across the nation were gathered in that room.

The shared thought of not wanting to be there, the tempting idea of escaping, the hatred towards the Capitol, the surprising happiness of some and the infinite boredom of some others while everyone hided their own personal feelings in the situation that mixed and served to the participants a dose of hilarious awkwardness and charming adventure made the atmosphere pretty intense; it seemed that nobody was up to those sort of games.

"Please say your name, age, district, part in my musical and motivation in it," commanded the woman.

They started from left to right in the order. A little and smiley girl with brown hair and skin and dark sparkly eyes started.

"My name is Rue. I am 12 years old. I am from district 11 and I am going to play the part of Little Jammes, the ballerina. I love to dance and hope to have fun here!"

"My name is Primrose Everdeen. I am also 12 years old and from district 12. I am going to be Meg Giry, another ballerina and I am very very happy to be with my friend Rue!"

"My name is Elisa Everdeen, mother of the little beauty I have by my side and a hurricane that's seated somewhere else. Also from district 12 and well, I guess I can save my age for myself. I am playing the part of Madame Giry, mother of Meg and Opera's mistress and with this I hope to reunite my family life."

"My name is Haymitch Abernathy from district 12. I am playing the part of Monseur André, the director, I guess. I love to add really strong vodka to almost everything and so the free vodka they offered me is the motivation. Amen Vodka"

"My name is Gale Hawthorne. I am from district 12. Playing Erik, the phantom. No motivation at all, was just forced in…. oh and I am 18 "

"Katniss Everdeen. District 12. Age 16. Christine Daaé. Like to sing…and my sister, I am here for her and the money I will receive."

"I am Peeta Mellark, also from district 12. I am also 16 and playing the part of Raoul. My main motivation is…the girl I love" ***everyone looks upon him as Peeta blushes***

"Clove. District 2. I am the best and so I am playing the best part; La Carlota"

"Finnick Odaire. Age 24. Playing the part of the Comnte de Chagny because I have my own _Sorelli." *_**Looks seductively at the girl to his side***

"My name is Annie Cresta. Playing La Sorelli because I now have a Comnte." ***Winks at Finnick***

"And I am Effie Trinket from the Capitol. Apart from directing I will play the part of Richardella Firmin!"

"Richardella?" Asked everyone in unison.

"Yes! I transformed the part of Richard Firmin into a woman, gave it a more dramatic effect and much more participation over the play. Nice!" She chirped.

"Oh" Katniss said before standing up and leaving the room, knowing that the weeks to come were going to be a disaster.

Irritation overtook Effie's expression. "And she is going to be Christine?" She muttered but was evidently heard throughout the small crowd.

"Please excuse my daughter, she is just a little tired today…you know with the trip and everything" Said Mrs. Everdeen.

"Oh well, that being the case, you all are excused to go to your _chambers_" An overdramatic Effie said while everybody stood up and left.

* * *

**Hello Everybody! **

**Well, I take this chance to introduce myself as Charlie. I read the hunger games and this couple took over my attention. I like to write but this is my first time writing fan fiction so I would really appreciate if there are any comment about the writing style..or something confusing...or maybe a suggestion :) Everything accepted. **

**I really hope you like it! :D **

**I.C -Charlie- **


	2. Chapter 2

The Phantom Of The Opera

Chapter 2

Katniss P.O.V

I am not a "drama queen" as Effie pointed out a few minutes after I left for fresh air. After her, a procession of my "fellow cast" came to talk to me. The most remarkable of them was Clove, which was already getting into _La Carlotta's_ skin. Her natural arrogance surfaced with her dramatic and rehearsed monologue on how I wasn't meant to steal her show, such a shame it wasn't the right moment to sell that image.

After I was left alone for five miserable minutes of solitude, a redheaded girl with translucent skin took my hand very carefully, like she could harm me with her velvet touch. She motioned me to follow her but never said a word; in fact, she didn't even look at me. Her faded eyes were fixed in a certain point on the floor.

Walking with her through narrow hallways full of doors, exotic and antique decorations and luxuries I never saw, made me believe something wrong were going to happen. It was like if a mysterious mist covered the Great Theatre and the adjacent rooms we were occupying for the weeks to come. The walls seemed to stare, as if they were made out of people. All the luxuries that appeared to me as curious seemed out of this world. Even this girl that had my hand in hers and was taking me to somewhere unknown looked like part of the place. Maybe it was the whole Capitol that had this effect or I was getting very annoyed with the events.

We finally reached a door in a wider and more welcoming hall, probably the fact that it wasn't as extravagant as all of the others helped a lot. We don't get that much luxury back in District Twelve, much less in the Seam were you must fight tooth and nail even for a few crumbs of anything, that's why I loath that much all of those banal signs of grandeur.

She let go of my hand and with much difficulty opened the wooden door all by herself. Only when she gestured me to enter did I recognized my name beautifully carved in bold old-fashioned letters on the door. I ran my fingers over it, cautious not to damage it. The girl made an almost inaudible sound with her throat for me to enter and I realized how moronic could I have been to her.

What my eyes met inside was something my eyes couldn't register. The bedroom was probably as twice as big as my entire house back in the Seam. In the middle there was a queen's bed covered with duck feathers bedspread of sunshine colours, on column erected on each of the four corners of the bed gave way to a long veil of embroidered tulle, revealing the beautiful chant of the Mockingjay.

On top of all there was an incredible crystal chandelier that reflected the view that made me skip a beat; from my window, made out of the same wood as the door, I saw the mountains, and behind, a green patch full of trees, forest, life…freedom.

I stared at the rest of my room in owe, the chimney that had primroses carved in it. The paintings in the walls that showed unreal paradises didn't say anything but there was just one of them that caught my attention and stole my thoughts. It wasn't even part of the decoration because it smelled to fresh paint, it wasn't hanging or framed and no, it didn't match with the decorations. It was a bow and arrow on a rock on top of a mountain and a gorgeous late afternoon with each colour in spectrum. The hiding sun had the characteristics of my face. It was signed with the initials _P.M._, which was the only impersonal touch I could find in it. The rest was done down to the detail and almost made me cry because it meant this person really knew me without knowing me for I didn't know anybody that actually painted or that could afford a canvas.

Once again the girl made a sound with her throat to call my attention. She scared me so much I clumsily stumbled with one of the many different armchairs around the chimney. I moved over to appreciate a small stand full of books in a corner but didn't go and revise it for I was too ashamed with the mysterious redheaded.

She opened another door I didn't happen to see and pushed me into it. I had never seen a boudoir in my whole life but I knew this one I had in front of my eyes had to be beat every other existing in Panem. My eyes travelled from the improvised living room to the dressing table full of make up, lotions, brushes and other implements. The girl opened the drawers so I could choose some comfortable clothing and went to the bathroom to fill the bathtub for me. I sat down in the chair of the dressing table and looked at myself in the three mirrors surrounding me.

The room had an exquisite smell of cinnamon and vanilla. I searched every lotion until I could find the one that would make my body smell as such; even fragrances were beautiful in the Capitol.

The girl came from the bathroom and nodded too fast for me to see her face properly and just left. I took my clothes off and went into the tub.

After a hot and relaxing bath with soapy water and a relaxing music coming from another room, I put on a nice white and simple nightgown that fit me like a glove. It was up to my knees and had a few white flowers in it. Since it was a little cold, I decided to put on a white satin robe just while I did my hair.

Then I heard somebody entering my room. I didn't bother in moving from my place because with all the mirror I had around, I could see the person in any position he or she took around me.

But then I saw _him. _His arms crossed, his back to the wall, his beautiful blue eyes piercing my face even through the mirrors. It was Peeta Mellark and before my mind could register his full name my neck turn around in a reflex action.

"Just me, I wanted to say hi" he said.

_Just me, _like if his presence was unperceived in my heart which almost exploded in my chest just because of the fact that he came here. In the past five years, he coming into my room to "say hi" has been our biggest interaction. Not the last one, though.

* * *

**Hello! **

**It is me again, bringing the second chapter, we get this play moving! :D Thanks to every reader! Feel free to leave a comment! **

**-Charlie 3 **


	3. Chapter 3

The Phantom Of The Opera

**Chapter 3 **

**Peeta P.O.V**

Once her braid was done, she stood to face me completely. She was beautiful with that pyjama dress and her satin robe. It was one of the only times I could see her feminine side. I liked her even with her pants and hunting boots, when she went and fetch food for her family…with Hawthorne. I didn't like him at all; he took advantage of Katniss's situation just to make a move with her. I saw it in his eyes.

I was taller than her and could see her eyes gleaming. For a shooting moment I thought they could be sparkling for me, like that day, 11 years ago, when even the birds halted their chanting to admire her glorious vocals as she sang the valley song in kindergarten.

She sang with her heart, no doubt she was going to be Christine Daaé in this play. But on top of all, I felt it much more powerful than a mere song, her voice embraced me and deeply tangled my ideas with a knot that only she would know how to open one day.

Our eyes had a brief and wordless conversation; my blue ones cried for her, her grey ones sent me confused messages. She blushed and I looked away but it was worse because I could catch a full view of her complete body covered in satin and my thoughts left me adrift in a dimension in which I woke up every morning and saw Katniss in my tight embrace, a dimension in which I called her wife and she called me husband…a dimension in which I had already win her heart and she openly admitted it.

Without even intending to do so, I caressed her soft cheek. The tip of my finger imprinted in her olive skin a beautiful reddish tint, she blushed because of me. She closed her eyes and my body felt she gave me a permission to fulfil my longing to show her my love through her senses.

She stood in tiptoes and barely passed her fingertips slowly up and down my neck. It gave me waves of pleasure through my back. I wanted her to stroking me and caressing me. I wanted Katniss Everdeen to sooth me as in my dreams, as in our dimension.

I moved my lips towards her cheek, at the exact same place I was touching with my fingers but I felt her hesitate as she felt me closer to her face so I deviated my face towards her ear and whispered softly: "I still remember the day…when you sang to me...and even the birds stopped their chant to listen to you". She blushed and laughed at the same time for it sounded more like a purr than a whisper. I also blushed; I didn't know what was going on with me.

For years I yearned for her to say something meaningful to me, to pass the phase of monosyllabic conversations with a nod and a quick goodbye. I was way to shy to make an approach by myself, even less after our nearest interaction was I knocking her out with burnt bread in one of the District twelve's many rainy and monotone afternoons.

I wanted her to continue making me shiver with her bare touch. I blamed myself for breaking our moment with my stupid purr. With a gesture that froze me, she quietened my thoughts.

"Peeta Mellark…you don't…" She started but trailed off when we heard the horrendous ears-destructing chirp of Effie Trinket.

We didn't move and so, when she entered, accompanied by a blond guy and Clove, she saw us as we were before, almost holding each other in between the dressing room and Katniss's bedroom.

"Oh Christine, dear, I didn't know that you were busy with this young gentleman, would be so kind to lend me the Soprano for a moment..hmm, Monsieur Vicomte de Chagny, I wanted to introduce her to a new male singer in our company that will delight you tomorrow night -if we are honored with your visit- in our great opening by making a duet with Carlotta, our Prima Donna" Said Effie with a vague and still dramatic tone of voice.

"Ok…this is getting out of control Effie. He is Peeta, I am Katniss, this blond guy over here is just another new male tribute to act with us…and she holding his hand is Clove. Ok? I am not Soprano, I am not Christine and she isn't Carlotta or Prima Donna at the moment either. Right?" She said gestured every word as if Effie was a toddler.

She showed her confusion by narrowing her eyebrows and twitching her nose, and then, as though she had cleared something out, she smiled to us and responded to Katniss.

"Listen, _Catpiss_…my play must look as realistic as possible. So, from now own, all of your fellow cast will call you Christine. _Peter, _must be called Raoul. _Clover_, over there will be Carlotta. _Cattle _must be called Shah. You all must refer to that boy in the room next door…Gueller?...he shall be mentioned as "The Phantom" and you Christine, you must call him Angel of Music. And I am Richardella!" She said defiantly with that fake smile of hers.

Then she left the room and the four of us stared at each other in disbelieve to what Effie said. The awkward silence was notorious a few seconds later along with the little sympathy between us and the couple we had in front; Clove's arrogance was visible from afar and the guy's way of looking at Katniss was vulgar and filthy.

"Is your name Cattle?" Katniss asked mockingly, which amused me.

"Is yours Catpiss?" Clove retorted with a glare.

She tossed around the room, looking in detail and messing what was so carefully arranged.

"Someone has a decent room," She hatefully chanted.

Then she took the boy's hand and almost dragged him away, not quick enough for him to articulate his name in a silly and stupidly flirty manner towards Katniss.

"Cato is my name, Soprano, but you should call me Shah," he said before being dragged away by Clove.

I took the hand of my beautiful Katniss and it occurred to me to play with her.

"I will see you later…my lovely Christi…"I said and was interrupted by her hissing.

"If you call me Christine just once before we set foot on the scenario…I swear I will hang you from your hands on a tree with my hunting arrows!" She said irritated and glaring at me.

I finally stole that kiss from her cheek, which for me it was going in huge strides and left to my room, not without inviting her to join me in the dinner they would bring to our rooms.

**Katniss P.O.V**

Things were going very awkwardly in the Grand Theatre. First, my encounter with Peeta…that left me with so many doubts and questions but also with a logging, the need for another touch, for his purr in me ear, his lips and the sweetness of his treatment towards me who had been so rude with him in the past years.

My heart was rushing, especially because he told me to have dinner with him and I didn't know what would it bring. Would it be another touch? Maybe the yearned kiss…a signal perhaps?

I know my mind was creating illusions in my head like dumb teenager that could afford to those pleasures. Back at home, while girls my age would dream about boys and kisses my most wanted hope was to find squirrels or any other animal to sell, that my old boots could resist another year or that I could give my sister, Prim, a descent plate of food and not boiled water with cheap spices or crumbs. But Peeta blocked me…and made me only focus on his big watery eyes. This scared me, I felt pressured because the only relation I had seen in my life was that one of my parents…and they were very happy. Then again, they were married and I was just a sixteen years old with no experience in the field of love…it is a minefield ready to blow me away as soon as I step in the wrong spot.

Then it is this annoying Effie woman with her mad ideas of calling us by our characters. Now Peeta tried to do it, just to mess around but he tried to which results twice as annoying. Cato, the new blond guy, was ridiculous enough to buy Effie's excuse to make us appear like crazy around the Grand Theatre and then there was Clove, who had been born already immersed in La Carlotta's soul.

I started unpacking a few belongings I brought with me from District Twelve, just the things I didn't want to loose in case something happened to our house. Among them, a little booklet my dad saved suspiciously in a box. Mother wanted to throw it away after he died but I didn't let her do it. It was special. I thought that if might contain valuable information that my dad wanted to keep secret but when I opened up for the first time, it was just a blank notebook of creamy and yellowish paper with a note on the front part. It was for me. My dad left me a notebook that would be my birthday present when I turned fifteen, because apparently he knew I would give a fair use for such a rare object.

It was indeed; composed of red leather covering the front and back part, velvet details in black and a few golden strands as a decoration on each creamy page that emanates a smell of old library I love. I began making doodles in it, not knowing which was the fair use I should give to it. But later on, I started writing really important stuff to keep me from being mad, including a few things I talked with my father and of course, what I felt for Peeta.

I hided it under my pillow when the clock struck twelve, meaning it was my time to have dinner with Peeta in his room. I walked down the hallway, searching for his room when I remembered I didn't put a lock on my door but I wasn't much concerned about it for there wasn't anything they could steal that would hurt me and my notebook was well hidden.

**Unknown P.O.V **

I was gifted with sensible earing since my vision wasn't as good. I could hear every sound made in the adjoining rooms, meaning I could perceive, by a movement or sound, the whereabouts of those around me. This tortured me for years; I wasn't any sort of sensationalist journalist or gossipy hairdresser to actually care about everyone's life. But I was full of resentment…of jealousy and hatred towards some of my "fellow cast" and I knew this was going to be in my favour.

Probably Katniss and Peeta will have tea and cookies while laughing at anything and then perform once again their kissy-touchy scene, which is more likely to turn into a routine I will have to listen to very often. But I am not letting their feelings get too wide or their childish adventure go to far. For me, the real play begins right now…

* * *

**Hello everybody!**

**Thanks for reading my fic...I really really appreciate it. :D I would love to know who do you think is the unknown P.O.V...just make a guess! haha..let me know is there is something else you would like to see...or maybe any suggestion or comment! Feel free to leave a review and please please really do..it motivates me to continue..**

**By the way, in the original novel by Gaston Leroux, Shah (which, as you might have noticed is the character for Cato) is, along with another character named "The Sultan", as past enemies of The Phantom. But since I want to integrate more characters into the play and the storyline, Shah will be another male singer of the Opera. **

**:) **

**-Charlie **


	4. Chapter 4

**The Phantom Of The Opera**

**Chapter 4 **

**Effie P.O.V **

As always, my alarm clock sounded at the most auspicious hour to start the daily routine: 4:00 a.m. I rose from my bed with the proper enthusiasm a socialite has to show in this kind of events, especially now.

I dressed in the kind of outfit that a strong woman with so much on her shoulders, like Richardella Firmin, should wear. It meant a feminine tuxedo in the soberest colour a serious businesswoman wore on those days, hot pink. I also put on my heels and started fixing my curls with three different combs and made sure it looked nice enough for the best complement I could find for my tux in the whole Capitol, my pinkish little hat. When I looked at myself in the mirror, I almost squealed with emotion since I was just like an exact clone of what I projected of Richardella. Of course I was giving much more resonance to opera house. When I finished I knew it was time to knock them down with some artistic devices.

After putting my make up on, filing my nails and checking once again that every curl was on its place, I took my whistle and headed towards the other rooms. I knew they weren't as disciplined in this arts so I, Richardella Firmin, promised myself to devoutly sacrifice my own time from my own obligations to put them into line.

I started to whistle in the middle of the hall and soon they were all on their doors, wearing pyjamas and cranky expressions in their faces.

"Come on, Madame Giry, Monsieur André, what happened to you today?" I ask as calmly as I possibly could but in my heart I would kill them all for making our preparation begin at the less favourable moment to begin them.

"Effie…woman…do you realize what time is it?" Monsieur André responds. He must be in such a state of drunkenness that he doesn't even remember my name. Hum, we must fix that quickly.

"Err…Madame…Richardella...I request a few more hours of sleep of the crew member , at least for the younger ballerinas like…Meg and Rue…I mean Jammes. I don't want them to fall asleep in the foyers of the ballet nor do you want them to give a bad recital today that we have…ummm the visit of their highness, the Comte and Vicomte de Chagny…don't you think so?" Madame Giry asks and everyone looks at her in surprise.

It seemed reasonable, Madame Giry always knows what's right and she was here before André and I arrived so, I guess we should give her space in our decisions.

"Ok, you two girls, go into Sorelli's chamber. Comte, Vicomte, your servant is waiting for you in the entrance. As for Mademoiselles Carlotta, Christine, Sorelli and Monsieur Shah, your instructors are waiting for you in the scenario. Please Monsieur Erik, stay in your room until Madame Giry come and tells you were to go." I directed.

"Madame Giry, Monsieur André, please follow me to my chambers." I commanded them while I fixed my hair. Suddenly, while we walked down the hall, Madame Giry and André behind me, I felt a bobby pin loose and rocked in my head with every step I gave. My hands were already reaching the spot in my head to safeguard my hair. Both of my hands were grossly inside of my curls as if I was scratching my head and then I felt a crack and it wasn't one, they were two, three cracks…four, five cracks. I halted and looked at my hands in horror, my nails had just broken!

"Call an ambulance! Call the police! My family doctor! I am going to die!" I shouted in despair. After a few moments, my servants were with me dragging me hysterically to my room while André and Madame Giry were just standing there and staring, those incompetents.

**Mrs. Everdeen P.O.V**

We saw Effie…or Richardella, in despair because of her nails. She was running to her room and shouting frantically along with some other young ladies, supposedly her servants who were also faking their hysteria towards the situation. It was a broken nail, not an ingrowing toenail or an infected hand, but knowing Effie, this was worse than an open-heart surgery.

After he left, I looked upon Mr. Abernathy who could barely stand on his feet. What a hangover he had. I helped him to his room and after I decided to tell the other ones about Effie's incident and so we all would have a free day.

I started with Gale, who was waiting for the instructions Effie was to give me. I knocked at his door and he didn´t open so I entered with the freedom of a mother. He was seating in a dark corner of his room, lost-eyed and on track on his world of thoughts. As soon as he heard me he came back to listen to me.

"We have a free day…Effie had an incident with her nails…don't you think she is weird?" I asked softly.

"Oh…alright…that's a good thing…" I responded trying to sound courteous but cutting, tacitly reminding me that he wasn't a man for words and this wasn't the moment to have a conversation.

I was about to leave since he went back to his thinking…but as soon as I gave my back to him his mouth was flooded with words.

"Weird is the effect this…Capitol can have in some people," he stated firmly and ironically.

I left, confused, and searched for everyone else. It seemed that the only one that clearly assimilated the activity of treating everyone as its character was Clove, who was kind of enjoying everything. The rest were just nerved with it.

Katniss helped me taking Primrose to her room. Seeing her sleeping reminded me that it was still very early, around 7:00 a.m. so I asked my eldest daughter to accompany me to take breakfast, which she did without a complaint or a suggestive gesture. This behaviour was very weird in her, since she always showed me how she had lost the respect for me as a symbol of authority.

I don't really blame her for it. Katniss had been all I could ask for a daughter but I had failed her when I became depressed. She had a very good relation with her father, indeed. Our relationship was settled because we shared love for him but once he was gone it was Prim what made our relation from completely freezing. I know that if Primrose weren't here, Katniss would've escaped after my husband's death.

We ate in silence. When she finished she was about to leave but somehow I didn't want her to, so I tried to open a conversation with her.

"What do you know about Gales' attitude towards this project?" I asked while stirring my coffee.

"He doesn't like it," She answers quietly.

"Is there any especial reasons for him to hate the Capitol Katniss?" I ask trying to sound mysterious, to get her attention completely.

"Well…mother, there are many reasons to hate the Capitol, you know?" she said infuriated.

"Katniss, please don't start…he made a comment that now calls my attention and well, I just wanted to know…nothing else…" I said trailing off when I saw her fierce look; she didn't like to talk about her private life, which included Gale.

"I will talk to him, promise," she said before leaving.

**Peeta P.O.V **

I walked along with Finnick Odaire to our rooms. We were laughing about Effie and her ridiculous episode with nails. Then, running down the hallway I saw Katniss and a really spoiled humour chasing her.

I remembered the wonderful night we had, talking about our lives and laughing uncontrollably. We drank tea and eat cookies, saw a bunch of television shows and then had a joyful moment of tickles and laughs. The last thing I remembered is she singing me to sleep and felt another longed gesture of hers. I suppose she left afterwards, leaving me a note thanking me.

But my hand was broken as she walked and almost didn't notice me. Did she do it on purpose? When I called her, she said she was sorry but there was a very important thing she had to do, a thing that involved Gale Hawthorne because she just ran to his room…

* * *

**Hey there! **

**Today's chapter is short...I promise better ones :( Right now, it could be one of my lasts chapters before leaving fan fiction for a while..so I swear the next ones are going to be quite especial for the relationship and well, for the rest of the cast too but first...I would really appreciate a review..**

**Lots of love **

**-Charlie **


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